


like the fella once said

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Ocean's (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1642391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who the hell bet on the Mets nowadays, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	like the fella once said

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Pollitt

 

 

Rusty met Saul at the track. They really were not supposed to be at the track, because Rusty owed some money to a small time bookie who thought he was a big time gangster and the track was definitely his turf. But by that point, he had goons looking for them at all the local haunts and something had to be done.

"For fuck's sake, he's got them at the deli? Where are we supposed to eat?" Danny bitched that morning as they left Rusty's little apartment, the air wet and heavy against Rusty's skin. "I'm sick of this." Rusty blinked twice, waited. Danny pursed his lips and then said, "C'mon."

Rusty didn't ask any questions, just followed Danny to the car and then to the track where he knew they weren't supposed to be and up to a private box. That was where Rusty met Saul.

"How much?" Saul asked. Rusty sucked on a lollipop and stared over his sunglasses. "Ten grand? Twenty?" When Rusty didn't answer, Saul shifted in his seat, looked interested. "More?"

Danny rolled his eyes and swatted Rusty's shoulder. Rusty took a step away and answered. "Five fucking grand."

"You're standing here, in my box, blocking the sun from my face and I'm missing the race for five fucking grand?" Saul closed his eyes and muttered something Rusty didn't understand. "Danny? Explain."

Rusty cracked the candy between his teeth and felt like a petulant child as he listened to Danny lay out the situation. Saul kept looking over Danny's shoulder to see what was happening on the track. When Danny finished talking, there was a pause and Rusty stood there, waited.

"You're done?" Saul looked at Rusty, not Danny, so Rusty nodded. "Is there a reason you can't get the money? Inability to work due to injury? Do you not speak English?"

Rusty really didn't think he liked Saul much and he almost said so, but Danny glared at him. "The guy doesn't deserve it. He fucked us over and lied." Saul stared at Rusty like he expected him to say something else. Rusty frowned. "Also, he was wearing the ugliest suit I've ever seen."

That got something that Rusty decided might be a smile from Saul and a nod of agreement from Danny. Rusty leaned back against the wall of the box, resting his hand on the cheap wood painted white to look worth the extra money Saul paid to sit apart from the regulars. He wondered if he'd have splinters later.

"You know the one, that silver and red polyester thing," Danny said and Saul raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

"Hideous," he looked back out at the track, shaded his eyes with his hand, the sleeve of his white suit jacket slouching down his arm. "I bet on that piece of shit, can you believe it?" Rusty turned around and watched the last dog straggle across the finish line, turned back and shook his head, shrugged. "I know. But, it's got the same name as my little niece. What can I do?"

Rusty looked at Danny. This was the famous Saul? Danny nodded once and Rusty shrugged. "I'm sure she's lovely."

Saul scoffed. "She's the ugliest child I've ever seen." He made a few notations on his race card and then looked back up at Rusty. "So the guy lied to you, somehow 'cheated' you on an illegal sports bet and now you owe him five grand?"

Rusty nodded. They should have just skipped town like he'd suggested. There wasn't any fucking reason to stay in a little shithole like this anyway. Somewhere below them people were cheering, hoping to make some money on a dog running in a circle. The sound and the heat of the sun in Rusty's hair were making his head hurt. He sighed and Danny shot him a look. Rusty shook his head, thought, 'no, you shut up,' but turned his attention back to Saul's lecture.

"And you're upset. I see that. No one likes being lied to. And no one likes losing money." Saul nodded in agreement with himself. "That's why, Rusty, most people don't become fucking con artists."

Danny pressed his hand to his mouth and Rusty was sure he was laughing under there. Rusty thought he wouldn't be laughing so hard if it was his tuition money they'd lost betting on the fucking Mets. Who the hell bet on the Mets nowadays, anyway?

"This is what you do, boys, direct from an old-timer with much more sense and experience than you've got." Danny chuckled and Saul turned his narrowed gaze on him. "I'm talking about you too, Danny." Danny dropped his hand and nodded like an obedient school boy. Rusty felt slightly better. "What you do, is you pay the man his fucking money."

Rusty elbowed Danny in the side and opened his mouth to protest.

"Because, boys, the crux of the issue is that you want to fancy yourself conmen, the real deal, and yet you're standing in my box, asking for my help because you got fleeced by a motor-mouthed moron who doesn't have the sense to look in a mirror before leaving the house." He took a deep breath. Rusty thought that Saul was enjoying this a bit too much. "And if nothing else, you've got to respect that. So my advice is chalk it up to experience and give the man his money."

There was silence for a few seconds and then Danny shifted his weight. "Well, he does have a point."

Rusty coughed and turned to glare at Danny. "A point? You think so?" Danny nodded. "Then this is what we're gonna do? Give Mack all the money I have in the bank because he has a point?"

Rusty wasn't even angry because really, Rusty had been embarrassed since the moment he realized they'd been conned, so the guy did have a point. Also, Rusty didn't feel like sitting through another semester of courses on Chaucer and business ethics just to please some parole officer, anyway. But Rusty felt the situation required he at least make a show of disagreeing.

"Look, we'll pull something, get your money back and maybe someday we can have Mack killed." Danny smiled, all charm, and Rusty rolled his eyes. Danny was the Mets fan, but Rusty placed the bet and used his money. Mack wasn't the only one who'd caught him off guard. "We'll get more money than we need and go to that Italian place you like."

"Pay him, don't pay him, just get out of my way," Saul said, but when Danny and Rusty moved so the view of the track was clear, Rusty still felt like Saul was watching them.

Rusty sighed, bit the paper lollipop stick and said, "You have to find the mark and do all the work." Danny nodded. "And I'm ordering the veal."

There was a pause and then Danny smiled, a real grin he never used in a con, with sun shining off the teeth and everything. Rusty shook his head and leaned against Danny's shoulder.

"Fucking Mets."

Danny shrugged and Rusty's shirt sleeve slid with the movement. "What are you gonna do?"

Rusty resisted the smile playing around his lips and didn't move away from Danny. Clearly, the answer to that was 'nothing'.

"Normally I would be the last one to interrupt the big lovey moment, but since you interrupted my quiet day at the races first," Saul said, without turning to look at them.

Danny laughed and leered a little as he dusted invisible dirt off Rusty's shirt front before pulling away completely and looking at Saul. "Yes, Saul?"

"I was just thinking that if you two could promise me you'd pull your fucking acts together, I might have a job for you." Saul pulled his eyes from the race and smiled at Rusty, gesturing at the seats next to him and putting aside his race card.

Rusty looked at Danny who laughed and nodded, so Rusty sat down to get the details.

 


End file.
